danger? Perhaps not. We have, it is true, had a long peace with the
Indians: but it is a long peace indeed, as well as a long lane, that
has no ending. The French know the power and importance of the Six
Nations, and spare no artifice, pains or expence, to gain them to
their interest. By their priests they have converted many to their
religion, and these[198] have openly espoused their cause. The rest
appear irresolute what part to take; no persuasions, though enforced
with costly presents, having yet been able to engage them generally
on our side, though we had numerous forces on their borders, ready
to second and support them. What then may be expected, now those
forces are, by orders from the crown, to be disbanded, when our
boasted expedition is laid aside, through want (as it may appear to
them) either of strength or courage; when they see, that the French
and their Indians, boldly, and with impunity, ravage the frontiers
of New York, and scalp the inhabitants; when those few Indians,
that engaged with us against the French, are left exposed to their
resentment: when they consider these things, is there no danger that,
through disgust at our usage, joined with fear of the French power,
and greater confidence in their promises and protection than in ours,
they may be wholly gained over by our enemies, and join in the war
against us? If such should be the case, which God forbid, how soon
may the mischief spread to our frontier countries? And what may we
expect to be the consequence, but desertion of plantations, ruin,
bloodshed and confusion!
Perhaps some in the city, towns, and plantations near the river,
may say to themselves, "An Indian war on the frontiers will not
affect us; the enemy will never come near our habitations; let
those concerned take care of themselves." And others who live in
the country, when they are told of the danger the city is in from
attempts by sea, may say, "What is that to us? The enemy will be
satisfied with the plunder of the town, and never think it worth
his while to visit our plantations: let the town take care of
itself."--These are not mere suppositions, for I have heard some
talk in this strange manner. But are these the sentiments of true
Pensylvanians, of fellow-countrymen, or even of men, that have common
sense or goodness? Is not the whole province one body, united by
living under the same laws, and enjoying the same privileges? Are not
the people of city and country connected as relations, both by blood
and marriage, and in friendships equally dear? Are they not likewise
united in interest, and mutually useful and necessary to each other?
When the feet are wounded, shall the head say, it is not me; I will
not trouble myself to contrive relief! Or if the head is in danger,
shall the hands say, we are not affected, and therefore will lend
no assistance! No. For so would the body be easily destroyed: but
when all parts join their endeavours for its security, it is often
preserved. And such should be the union between the country and the
town; and such their mutual endeavours for the safety of the whole.
When New England, a distant colony, involved itself in a grievous
debt to reduce Cape Breton, we freely gave four thousand pounds for
_their_ relief. And at another time, remembering that Great Britain,
still more distant, groaned under heavy taxes in supporting the war,
we threw in our mite to their assistance, by a free gift of three
thousand pounds: and shall country and town join in helping strangers
(as those comparatively are) and yet refuse to assist each other?
But whatever different opinions we have of our security in other
respects, our TRADE, all seem to agree, is in danger of being ruined
in another year. The great success of our enemies, in two different
cruizes this last summer in our bay, must give them the greatest
encouragement to repeat more frequently their visits, the profit
being almost certain, and the risk next to nothing. Will not the
first effect of this be, an enhancing of the price of all foreign
goods to the tradesman and farmer, who use or consume them? For
the rate of insurance will increase, in proportion to the hazard
of importing them; and in the same proportion will the price of
those goods increase. If the price of the tradesman's work, and the
farmer's produce, would increase equally with the price of foreign
commodities, the damage would not be so great: but the direct
contrary must happen. For the same hazard or rate of insurance,
that raises the price of what is imported, must be deducted out of,
and lower the price of what is exported. Without this addition and
deduction, as long as the enemy cruize at our capes, and take those
vessels that attempt to _go out_, as well as those that endeavour to
_come in_, none can afford to trade, and business must be soon at a
stand. And will not the consequences be, a discouragement of many
of the vessels that used to come from other places to purchase our
produce, and thereby a turning of the trade to ports that can be
entered with less danger, and capable of furnishing them with the
same commodities, as New York, &c.; a lessening of business to every
shopkeeper, together with multitudes of bad debts, the high rate of
goods discouraging the buyers, and the low rates of their labour
and produce, rendering them unable to pay for what they had bought;
loss of employment to the tradesman, and bad pay for what little he
does; and lastly, loss of many inhabitants, who will retire to other
provinces not subject to the like inconveniences; whence a lowering
of the value of lands, lots, and houses.
The enemy, no doubt, have been told, that the people of Pensylvania
are Quakers, and against all defence, from a principle of conscience;
this, though true of a part, and that a small part only of the
inhabitants, is commonly said of the whole; and what may make it
look probable to strangers is, that in fact, nothing is done by any
part of the people towards their defence. But to refuse defending
one's self, or one's country, is so unusual a thing among mankind,
that possibly they may not believe it, till by experience, they find
they can come higher and higher up our river, seize our vessels,
land and plunder our plantations and villages, and retire with their
booty unmolested. Will not this confirm the report, and give them the
greatest encouragement to strike one bold stroke for the city, and
for the whole plunder of the river?
It is said by some, that the expence of a vessel, to guard our trade,
would be very heavy, greater than perhaps all the enemy can be
supposed to take from us at sea would amount to; and that it would
be cheaper for the government to open an insurance office, and pay
all losses. But is this right reasoning? I think not; for what the
enemy takes is clear loss to us, and gain to him; increasing his
riches and strength, as much as it diminishes ours, so making the
difference double; whereas the money, paid our own tradesmen for
building and fitting out a vessel of defence, remains in the country,
and circulates among us; what is paid to the officers and seamen,
that navigate her, is also spent ashore, and soon gets into other
hands; the farmer receives the money for her provisions, and, on the
whole, nothing is clearly lost to the country but her wear and tear,
or so much as she sells for at the end of the war less than her first
cost. This loss, and a trifling one it is, is all the inconvenience;
but how many and how great are the conveniences and advantages! and
should the enemy, through our supineness and neglect to provide for
the defence both of our trade and country, be encouraged to attempt
this city, and after plundering us of our goods, either _burn it_,
or put it to ransom, how great would that loss be! besides the
confusion, terror, and distress, so many hundreds of families would
be involved in!
The thought of this latter circumstance so much affects me, that
I cannot forbear expatiating somewhat more upon it. You have, my
dear countrymen and fellow citizens, riches to tempt a considerable
force to unite and attack you, but are under no ties or engagements
to unite for your defence. Hence, on the first alarm, _terror_ will
spread over all; and as no man can with certainty depend that another
will stand by him, beyond doubt very many will seek safety by a
speedy flight. Those, that are reputed rich, will flee, through fear
of torture, to make them produce more than they are able. The man,
that has a wife and children, will find them hanging on his neck,
beseeching him with tears to quit the city, and save his life, to
guide and protect them in that time of general desolation and ruin.
All will run into confusion, amidst cries and lamentations, and the
hurry and disorder of departers, carrying away their effects. The
few that remain will be unable to resist. _Sacking_ the city will
be the first, and _burning_ it, in all probability, the last act of
the enemy. This, I believe, will be the case, if you have timely
notice. But what must be your condition, if suddenly surprized,
without previous alarm, perhaps in the night! Confined to your
houses, you will have nothing to trust to but the enemy's mercy.
Your best fortune will be, to fall under the power of commanders of
king's ships, able to controul the mariners; and not into the hands
of _licentious privateers_. Who can, without the utmost horror,
conceive the miseries of the latter! when your persons, fortunes,
wives, and daughters, shall be subject to the wanton and unbridled
rage, rapine, and lust, of negroes, mulattoes, and others, the vilest
and most abandoned of mankind[199]. A dreadful scene! which some may
represent as exaggerated. I think it my duty to warn you: judge for
yourselves.
It is true, with very little notice, the rich may shift for
themselves. The means of speedy flight are ready in their hands;
and with some previous care to lodge money and effects in distant
and secure places, though they should lose much, yet enough may be
left them, and to spare. But most unhappily circumstanced indeed are
we, the middling people, the tradesmen, shopkeepers, and farmers of
this province and city! We cannot all fly with our families; and if
we could, how shall we subsist? No; we and they, and what little we
have gained by hard labour and industry, must bear the brunt: the
weight of contributions, extorted by the enemy (as it is of taxes
among ourselves) must be surely borne by us. Nor can it be avoided,
as we stand at present; for though we are numerous, we are quite
defenceless, having neither forts, arms, union, nor discipline. And
though it were true, that our trade might be protected at no great
expence, and our country and our city easily defended, if proper
measures were but taken; yet, who shall take these measures? Who
shall pay that expence? On whom may we fix our eyes with the least
expectation, that they will do any thing for our security? Should
we address that wealthy and powerful body of people, who have ever
since the war governed our elections, and filled almost every seat
in our assembly; should we intreat them to consider, if not as
friends, at least as legislators, that _protection_ is as truly due
from the government to the people, as _obedience_ from the people to
the government; and that if, on account of their religious scruples,
they themselves could do no act for our defence, yet they might
retire, relinquish their power for a season, quit the helm to freer
hands during the present tempest, to hands, chosen by their own
interest too, whose prudence and moderation, with regard to them,
they might safely confide in; secure, from their own native strength,
of resuming again their present station, whenever it shall please
them: should we remind them, that the public money, raised _from
all_, belongs _to all_; that since they have, for their own ease,
and to secure themselves in the quiet enjoyment of their religious
principles (and may they long enjoy them) expended such large sums
to oppose petitions, and engage favourable representations of their
conduct, if they themselves could by no means be free to appropriate
any part of the public money for our defence; yet it would be no
more than justice, to spare us a reasonable sum for that purpose,
which they might easily give to the king's use as heretofore,
leaving all the appropriation to others, who would faithfully apply
it as we desired: should we tell them, that though the treasury be
at present empty, it may soon be filled by the outstanding public
debts collected; or at least credit might be had for such a sum, on
a single vote of the assembly: that though _they_ themselves may
be resigned and easy under this naked, defenceless state of the
country, it is far otherwise with a very great part of the people;
with _us_, who can have no confidence that God will protect those,
that neglect the use of rational means for their security; nor have
any reason to hope, that our losses, if we should suffer any, may
be made up by collections in our favour at home. Should we conjure
them by all the ties of neighbourhood, friendship, justice, and
humanity, to consider these things; and what distraction, misery, and
confusion, what desolation and distress, may possibly be the effect
of their _unseasonable_ predominancy and perseverance; yet all would
be in vain: for they have already been, by great numbers of the
people, petitioned in vain. Our late governor did for years solicit,
request, and even threaten them in vain. The council have since twice
remonstrated to them in vain. Their religious prepossessions are
unchangeable, their obstinacy invincible. Is there then the least
hope remaining, that from that quarter any thing should arise for our
security?
And is our prospect better, if we turn our eyes to the strength of
the opposite party, those great and rich men, merchants and others,
who are ever railing at Quakers for doing what their principles
seem to require, and what in charity we ought to believe they think
their duty, but take no one step themselves for the public safety.
They have so much wealth and influence, if they would use it, that
they might easily, by their endeavours and example, raise a military
spirit among us, make us fond, studious of, and expert in, martial
discipline, and affect every thing that is necessary, under God, for
our protection. But _envy_ seems to have taken possession of their
hearts, and to have eaten out and destroyed every generous, noble,
public-spirited sentiment. _Rage_ at the disappointment of their
little schemes for power, gnaws their souls, and fills them with
such cordial hatred to their opponents, that every proposal, by the
execution of which _those_ may receive benefit as well as themselves,
is rejected with indignation. "What," say they, "shall we lay out
our money to protect the trade of Quakers? Shall we fight to defend
Quakers? No; let the trade perish, and the city burn; let what will
happen, we shall never lift a finger to prevent it." Yet the Quakers
have _conscience_ to plead for their resolution not to fight, which
these gentlemen have not. Conscience with you, gentlemen, is on the
other side of the question: conscience enjoins it as a _duty_ on you
(and indeed I think it such on every man) to defend your country,
your friends, your aged parents, your wives, and helpless children:
and yet you resolve not to perform this duty, but act contrary to
your own consciences, because the Quakers act according to theirs.
Till of late, I could scarce believe the story of him, who refused
to pump in a sinking ship, because one on board, whom he hated,
would be saved by it as well as himself. But such, it seems, is the
unhappiness of human nature, that our passions, when violent, often
are too hard for the united force of reason, duty, and religion.
Thus unfortunately are we circumstanced at this time, my dear
countrymen and fellow-citizens; we, I mean, the middling people;
the farmers, shopkeepers, and tradesmen of this city and country.
Through the dissensions of our leaders, through mistaken principles
of religion, joined with a love of worldly power, on the one hand;
through pride, envy, and implacable resentment on the other;
our lives, our families, and little fortunes, dear to us as any
great man's can be to him, are to remain continually exposed to
destruction, from an enterprising, cruel, now well-informed, and
by success encouraged, enemy. It seems as if heaven, justly
displeased at our growing wickedness, and determined to punish[200]
this once-favoured land, had suffered our chiefs to engage in these
foolish and mischievous contentions, for _little posts_ and _paltry
distinctions_, that our hands might be bound up, our understandings
darkened and misled, and every means of our security neglected. It
seems as if our greatest men, our _cives nobilissimi_[201] of both
parties, had sworn the ruin of the country, and invited the French,
our most inveterate enemy to destroy it. Where then shall we seek
for succour and protection? The government we are immediately under
denies it to us; and if the enemy comes, we are _far from Zidon, and
there is no deliverer near_. Our case is dangerously bad; but perhaps
there is yet a remedy, if we have but the prudence and the spirit to
apply it.
If this new flourishing city, and greatly improving colony, is
destroyed and ruined, it will not be for want of numbers of
inhabitants able to bear arms in its defence. It is computed, that we
have at least (exclusive of the Quakers) sixty thousand fighting men,
acquainted with fire arms, many of them hunters and marksmen, hardy
and bold. All we want is order, discipline, and a few cannon. At
present we are like the separate filaments of flax before the thread
is formed, without strength, because without connection; but UNION
would make us strong, and even formidable. Though the _great_ should
neither help nor join us; though they should even oppose our uniting,
from some mean views of their own, yet, if we resolve upon it, and it
please God to inspire us with the necessary prudence and vigour, it
_may_ be effected. Great numbers of our people are of British race,
and though the fierce fighting animals of those happy islands are
said to abate their native fire and intrepidity, when removed to a
foreign clime, yet with the people it is not so; our neighbours of
New England afford the world a convincing proof, that Britons, though
a hundred years transplanted, and to the remotest part of the earth,
may yet retain, even to the third and fourth descent, that zeal for
the public good, that military prowess, and that undaunted spirit,
which has in every age distinguished their nation. What numbers
have we likewise of _those brave people_, whose fathers in the last
age made so glorious a stand for our religion and liberties, when
invaded by a powerful French army, joined by Irish Catholics, under
a bigotted popish king! Let the memorable siege of Londonderry, and
the signal actions of the Iniskillingers, by which the heart of that
prince's schemes was broken, be perpetual testimonies of the courage
and conduct of those noble warriors! Nor are there wanting amongst
us, thousands of _that warlike_ nation, whose sons have ever since
the time of Cæsar maintained the character he gave their fathers,
of joining the most _obstinate courage_ to all the other military
virtues: I mean the brave and steady Germans. Numbers of whom have
actually borne arms in the service of their respective princes; and
if they fought well for their tyrants and oppressors, would they
refuse to unite with us in defence of their newly acquired and most
precious liberty and property? Were this union formed, were we once
united, thoroughly armed and disciplined, was every thing in our
power done for our security, as far as human means and foresight
could provide, we might then, with more propriety, humbly ask the
assistance of Heaven, and a blessing on our lawful endeavours.
The very fame of our strength and readiness would be a means of
discouraging our enemies; for it is a wise and true saying, that _one
sword often keeps another in the scabbard_. The way to secure peace
is to be prepared for war. They, that are on their guard, and appear
ready to receive their adversaries, are in much less danger of being
attacked, than the supine, secure and negligent. We have yet a winter
before us, which may afford a good and almost sufficient opportunity
for this, if we seize and improve it with a becoming vigour. And if
the hints contained in this paper are so happy as to meet with a
suitable disposition of mind in his countrymen and fellow-citizens,
the writer of it will, in a few days, lay before them a form of
an ASSOCIATION for the purposes herein mentioned, together with a
practicable scheme for raising the money necessary for the defence of
our trade, city, and country, without laying a burthen on any man.
_May the God of wisdom, strength, and power, the Lord of the armies
of Israel, inspire us with prudence in this time of danger, take
away from us all the seeds of contention and division, and unite the
hearts and counsels of all of us, of whatever sect or nation, in one
bond of peace, brotherly love, and generous public spirit; may he
give us strength and resolution to amend our lives, and remove from
among us every thing that is displeasing to him; afford us his most
gracious protection, confound the designs of our enemies, and give
peace in all our borders, is the sincere prayer of_
A TRADESMAN of Philadelphia.
FOOTNOTES:
[197] For this pamphlet we are indebted to the same American
correspondent, who furnished us with the papers intitled The
Busy-Body: but it came too late for insertion in its proper place,
which, agreeably to its date, is at the commencement of the present
volume. Dr. W. Smith, in his eulogium on our author, delivered before
the American philosophical society, speaks of this production as
follows: "In 1744, a Spanish privateer, having entered the Bay of
Delaware, ascended as high as Newcastle, to the great terror of the
citizens of Philadelphia. On this occasion Franklin wrote his first
political pamphlet called Plain Truth, to exhort his fellow-citizens
to the bearing of arms; which laid the foundation of those military
associations, which followed, at different times, for the defence of
the country." We presume that Dr. Smith is correct in his date, but
the copy sent us by our correspondent, which is the second edition,
was printed in 1747. _Editor._
[198] The praying Indians.
[199] By accounts, the ragged crew of the Spanish privateer that
plundered Mr. Liston's, and another plantation, a little below
Newcastle, was composed of such as these. The _honour_ and _humanity_
of their officers may be judged of, by the treatment they gave
poor captain Brown, whom they took with Martin's ship in returning
from their cruize. Because he bravely defended himself and vessel
longer than they expected, for which every generous enemy would
have esteemed him, did they, after he had struck and submitted,
barbarously _stab_ and _murder_ him, though on his knees begging
quarter!
[200] When God determined to punish his chosen people, the
inhabitants of Jerusalem, who, though breakers of his other laws,
were scrupulous observers of that ONE, which required keeping holy
the Sabbath-day; he suffered even the strict observation of that
command to be their ruin: for Pompey, observing that they then
obstinately refused to fight, made a general assault on that day,
took the town, and butchered them with as little mercy as he found
resistance.
JOSEPHUS.
[201] Conjuravere cives nobilissimi patriam incendere; GALLORUM
GENTEM, infestissimam nomini Romano, ad bellum arcessunt.
CAT. IN SALUST.
_Four Letters[202] to George Whatley, Esq. Treasurer of the
Foundling Hospital, London._
Letter I.
_Passy, near Paris, Aug. 21, 1784._
MY DEAR OLD FRIEND,
I received your kind letter of May 3, 1783. I am ashamed that it
has been so long unanswered. The indolence of old age, frequent
indisposition, and too much business, are my only excuses. I had
great pleasure in reading it, as it informed me of your welfare.
Your excellent little work, "The Principles of Trade," is too
little known. I wish you would send me a copy of it by the bearer,
my grandson and secretary, whom I beg leave to recommend to your
civilities. I would get it translated and printed here, and if your
bookseller has any quantity of them left, I should be glad he would
send them to America. The ideas of our people there, though rather
better than those that prevail in Europe, are not so good as they
should be: and that piece might be of service among them.